Waiting
by minabelle
Summary: *One-Shot* That was when I knew. That was when I realised that this would be the man who would guide me through life, give me strength and courage when I needed it; the man who I would unconditionally love until I breathed my last. T/P of sorts...


**Here's another one-shot – my first time trying something in a first person POV. I thought I'd take an alternative angle with the whole T/P thing – from the point of view that Pan is actually too young to be with Trunks, and her outlook on him in general. **

**Your feedback would be greatly appreciated as I feel this is an area of my writing that I need a lot of work on.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball**

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It wasn't as much as an obsession, but more than an infatuation.

I felt bitter resentment, knowing that I was born a little too late to even be in with a chance with my lavender-haired friend. He shouldn't rub it in my face though.

There were times when we were in space when I thought that we honestly could be together – our relationship changed over the course of that year – he started to respect me, and actually look at me in a more mature light.

So he should! I _am_ mature, I'm eighteen years old for Kami's sake, surely that should be the age when he should realise I'm truly ready for him. I've waited years, long agonising years; yet he never seems to have noticed. Granted, I don't have the stunning looks of Bra or Marron - I'm positively pig-like in comparison. Short, under-developed, more masculine than anything else I suppose.

But I was taught never to base one's impression on looks alone; wasn't he brought up with the same regard?

I've dreamt of him every night since I was fifteen. Every night he comes to me and teases me, embracing the passionate _love_ I feel for him, returning my feelings with a zest and vigour I couldn't even imagine.

As I grew older, and wiser, the dreams became more intense. The feelings and hot, sweaty encounters we shared together became all the more real and the disappointment I felt upon dawn breaking was becoming unbearable.

I'm not a naïve, little girl anymore, I am a woman. Can't he see that? Every time I'm forced to go to Capsule Corp. with my parents for Bulma's mandatory get-togethers it's as though the knife of unrequited love is twisted in a little further, a little deeper.

I can't stand the way he ruffles my hair as though I'm still a pre-teen, the way he still asks if I want to sneak off and get ice-cream. Doesn't he get it? I want to sneak off and get _him_.

And so time passes, as it has done oh-so slowly since I first realised that I would save myself for no-one except him.

_We were settling in, ready for our final descent to Earth, anticipating the rough ride that would come from entering the thick atmosphere of our home planet._

_Landings would always make me nervous, I was always terrified that something would go wrong and we would perish in a fiery ball of spaceship; stupid, huh? How I would think nothing of infiltrating enemy alien bases head on without a game plan, but cower in fear at something as simple as a landing._

_Trunks had noticed my edgy demeanour, how I kept on shifting from side to side in the large seat to my left of his, how I would avert my gaze from the large windows framing the control panel in front of us._

_He placed his hand on top of mine (which was squeezing the life out of the poor, unsuspecting armrest) with such a tender touch it made my breath get caught in my throat, resulting in a not-so-attractive gasping gulp type noise. Luckily, he took the revolting sound as another expression of my worry, flashing me that heart-stopping smile and moving his thumb over the top of my hand in a soothing rhythm._

That was when I knew. That was when I realised that this would be the man who would guide me through life, give me strength and courage when I needed it; the man who I would unconditionally love until I breathed my last.

So why couldn't he see that we were meant to be? Why was I now watching him walk up the aisle with another – an inferior, no doubt – she wasn't a Saiya-jin, she didn't understand our urges, our nature. She only understood the suave shell of the CEO, not the warrior who had killed for the benefit of mankind.

I sat back in the third row with my parents and my uncle, begging the tears not to come. They didn't. I wouldn't lower myself to that sort of level.

They exchanged vows, softly, sweetly. His gaze into her eyes so full of love, a silent promise to her and no-one else; yet I couldn't shake the feeling that it was meant to be me.

So I sit here, still watching, still waiting.

Waiting until he realises just what he's missing.


End file.
